By: Priscilla Yu,
on 1/4/2016
On 28 November 2015, I had a reading and panel discussion at Médiathèque André Malraux, a library and media centre in Strasbourg, the main city of the Alsace region of France, adjoining Germany, traditionally one of the Christmas capitals of the continent, and currently the site of the European Parliament.
The post The art of conversation appeared first on OUPblog.
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By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 9/12/2012
When we go online, we enter an environment that promotes cursory reading, hurried and distracted thinking, and superficial learning...
- pg 116
The Net...also turns us into lab rats constantly pressing levers to get tiny pellets of social or intellectual nourishment.
- pg 117
The Net seizes our attention only to scatter it... [it] presents us with an incredibly seductive blur.
- pg 118
The more we use the web, the more we train our brains to be distracted -- to process information very quickly and very efficiently but without sustained attention.
- pg 194
Of all the sacrifices we make when we devote ourselves to the Internet as our universal medium, the greatest is likely to be the wealth of connections within our own minds.
- pg 195
We shouldn't allow the glories of technology to blind our inner watch dog to the possibility that we've numbed an essential part of ourself.
- pg 212
As I said earlier this week, I don't believe the Internet is bad. This book has pushed me to intentionally think about the time I spend online, what I want to get from it and how it often pulls me from the work and living I want to do.
My blogging will remain firmly in place: here I am able to process things I'm learning, talk about books I love, promote literacy in the classroom, and connect with readers and writers alike. The rest of my online time -- aimlessly searching, social media -- will take a backseat. I'm also considering signing off Goodreads next year. A piece of me is craving privacy, and my reading life feels like a wonderful place to start.
What are your impressions of the quotes above? How do you feel about the choices you make about your time online?
By: Caroline Starr Rose,
on 9/10/2012
By: Kelly Herold,
on 2/12/2008
Two very different posts/articles have got me thinking about these internets of ours. One of them I read via my Reader, and the other in the New York Times. Both really show how technology and the internet have changed the way we work, read, and live.
First up: I really like Kassia Krozser's response at Booksquare to yet another article on how bloggers (and publishers) are ruining the book pages in the States. This is such a tiresome debate, and Kassia explains why. (Then again, Kassia could be merely reacting, instead of carefully considering context and various points of view. Just kidding.)
Now from the New York Times: "At Harvard, a Proposal to Publish Free on Web," by Patricia Cohen. Here's the upshot: "Faculty members are scheduled to vote on a measure that would permit Harvard to distribute their scholarship online, instead of signing exclusive agreements with scholarly journals that often have tiny readerships and high subscription costs."
I think this is an exciting proposal and I hope it passes. Imagine if scholarship made it to the web. There would be more room for debate and discussion. Moreover, time to "publication" could be six months instead of six years as it often is in the Humanities. While I do see issues for scholars working with human subjects or in the biological sciences, I think online scholarship is the future in the Humanities. I'll be watching the vote with great interest.
By: msedano,
on 9/3/2007
The Guardians. A Novel.
NY: Random House, 2007.
978-1-4000-6500-4Michael Sedano
Now that Ana Castillo has left Chicago for southern New Mexico's lonely ranchitos, she's also left behind her normally strong older woman character. Carmen la Coja, the one-legged flamenco dancer of Peel My Love Like an Onion, captivates her younger lover until he's no longer amusing and she locks him out of her high-rise apartment. In The Guardians, Regina's low self-esteem keeps her clumsily in the path of an ardent younger swain. They kiss, but that's the limit of their physical intimacy.
Regina's incompetency comes as quite a surprise, since so often a Castillo woman stands as a model of independence and growth, like la coja. But then, rural New Mexico presents its own set of challenges for Regina and the writer: Hardscrabble farming, limited job horizons, complications of la frontera for the characters. Sadly, Castillo allows herself to be trapped by the lurking conventionality of evil coyotes and gang members, turning the story into a mere thriller.
Not that The Guardians is a disappointment, far from it. The early chapters express affectionate involvement with a middle-aged woman eking a living on sandy plots, supplementing one's income with wild-haired schemes and a big heart. The plot wends its way into the Juarez murders of thousands of women, mixing it with immigrant smuggling, narcotraficantes, and evil coyotes. Borrowing from another Juarez murders novel, Alicia Gaspar de Alba's Desert Blood, one of the key characters is kidnaped by the sex torturers, but unlike Gaspar de Alba, Castillo shies away from the gruesome details.
A four-voice novel, Castillo supplements Regina's narrative with nephew Gabo, would-be lover Michael, and Michael's WWII veteran cantinero grandfather. Regina is the stunning redhead teacher's aide, Michael the chongoed middle school historian who's dated every woman on the faculty with no results. Gabo's torment at his father's disappearance complicates his deterioration into madness. The blind abuelo if not quite a blind Tiresias is often the voice of common sense who keeps as even a keel as their circumstance permits.
They make an unlikely team of detectives. Worse, the camaraderie among them is never fully developed. And, as with any detective story, a lot of what happens is completely predictable, but Castillo serves up a couple of good surprises. The fun comes from letting the characters do their thing and see what happens when the dust settles.
Notes of a Distracted Driver
Traffic clogs to a stop just across the intersection. 
I stop at the yellow light, tensing that the driver too close behind me may be thinking to synchronize both of us running the light. Across the street, thronged pedestrians lean urgently against the traffic, expecting to dash out to catch the connecting bus pulling up just now.
A pig hauler has halted in the snarl. A sixteen wheel trailer, forty feet of meat hauled by a big rig diesel. The aluminum box heads to Farmer John, a mile down the street. Everything but the squeal.
The aluminum sides of the trailer reflect the dull morning light in a swath of grey. Perforations checker the sides, bulging here and there with pinkish-brown bristled flesh. The light changes. My lane advances faster than the pigs'. I catch up just as traffic slows again and I begin to stop. Up on the second level a pig snout prods the air up there. I hope it is sweeter than the exhausted contamination that keeps my windows tightly up. Still, I hit the window switch. One-handedly, I switch on my camera, point in the right direction, and shoot.
Both lanes come to a dead halt. The pig pulls back its snout, looks up at the brightness of the western sky, and smiles at the glory of the coming day. 
By: Gina MarySol Ruiz,
on 6/13/2007
By: Gina MarySol Ruiz,
on 6/10/2007
I've been thinking about this too... I have tried to be more intentional with my use of the internet, finding content that inspires and encourages. I read and reread, listen and re-listen... instead of moving along to the the next thing. My new intention is to move from information consumption to wisdom integration.
Thanks for the great post.
It all starts with being aware, doesn't it?
I "signed off" Goodreads last year. I still have an account there that feeds my blog through, but I don't review books. I have no books on my shelves, etc. I do have a private profile on there to keep track of my books, but I don't have any friends connected to it, and it's under a fake name. I like my reading life to be private, so I completely understand what you mean.
I'd like to look further into that book. It sounds fantastic, and a great way to shake some sense into anyone addicted to being online. I seem to go through cycles ...
It really is a compelling read!
Great quotes, Caroline! Yes, we are all being driven to distraction. And unfortunately most online interaction is superficial; this is true. I'm definitely going to have to buy this book.
I never really signed on to Goodreads to begin with. Have an account, just never did anything with it. I keep a list of books I've read the old-fashioned way: in a notebook! And even though I'm on LinkedIn, I never go there. Or Google+ -- there are just too many things trying to grab our attention. I stick to facebook for friends and family and blogging for the children's book community. Even that is too much when I'm trying to get some real writing done.
Does anyone remember what life was like before the internet? I read more. Walked more. Went outside more. Talked to my family more. We actually used to play board games or create treasure hunts through the house when the boys were growing up. Seems so long ago and it was only about ten years.
I've kept a notebook of my reading since 2003. It's a real treasure, something I'm anxious to make my exclusive form of reading record keeping soon (I do want to see out this year, though).
You are so right about all the ways life was different and we behaved differently before the Internet was around. It's both sad and fascinating.
I think about this all the time. I always feel more scattered and disconnected when I've spent a lot of time online. Not that I think it's bad. Technology is so amazing and I believe it improves quality of life in many ways, but sometimes I need to just shut it down and spend some time in the real world. I feel different when I do that, in a good way.
I agree with everything you've said here.